October and April
by Nancy T
Summary: Even the best shows come to an end someday. This is the way I'd like to see "Supernatural" end.


OCTOBER

There was a shuddering resounding thrum you could feel through the scorched earth and the air, the oceans probably reverberated, and now the world would be infinitely better, humanity infinitely safer, and Sam didn't care at all.

He dropped to his knees beside Dean and desperately tried to stanch the blood pulsing from Dean's gut. The wound wasn't wide, but it was deep, and there wouldn't be time for an ambulance even if they weren't out in the middle of nowhere.

Still pressing on Dean's gut, Sam raised his head and roared. "Angels! God! I demand justice!"

He sucked in a breath. Dean put his hand around Sam's wrist, such a light weak grip from his powerful brother, and Sam yelled again. "He's bleeding for you! He defeated your enemies! Help him! Help – "

His voice broke, and Dean said quietly, "Sam."

Sam looked down at him, gasping, and clutched the hand that was clutching him.

"It's OK," Dean said.

"No it's not." He raised his head again. "I demand justice!"

Dean gave a little tug to Sam's wrist and Sam looked back down again.

"You remember," Dean was fighting to stay conscious, "remember when you told me. You were ready? I'm ready."

Sam stared at him for a moment.

"I'm not," he choked out.

"Be OK," Dean said, and somehow he was still the older brother comforting a scared child. "You can quit hunting. Melissa can quit hunting. She's safe from demons now, Sam. All are. We won."

"Not if we lose you." Tears were starting from Sam's eyes. "We should never have split up, Cas shouldn't be at the other battlefield – " He tipped his head back and yelled. "Give Castiel his wings back!"

"Sam," Dean said quietly. "Talk to me."

Sam shuddered, swallowed, blinked. With tears still running from his eyes, he focused on Dean and somehow smiled.

"You did it, Dean," he said. "You saved us all. Demons shut away where they belong forever. There's going to be so many – mothers and dads, husbands and wives, going through their lives, safer, because of you."

"All of us," Dean said. "You 'n' me. Cas. Melissa. You take care of her, Sam. She loves you."

"Dean – " Sam cast his gaze desperately around, but there was nothing besides a skeletal tree and the bodies on the ground, and he looked back down. "Cas – he loves you too, you know."

Dean's face relaxed, and he nodded a little.

"You can all quit hunting," he whispered. "Make a life. Cas can maybe – "

"I don't know any other way to live!"

And somehow, with his life ebbing away, Dean managed to give Sam a bitchface. "Yes you do. And you will. You and Melissa. Settle down. Tell her. I said so. I just – I wish Cas – "

A look of joyous astonishment filled Dean's face suddenly. It was so striking that Sam looked up and around, thinking a miracle had happened, Castiel was here and would save Dean with a touch.

But the barren field was still empty. When he looked back at Dean's face, there was still a little smile on his lips. But there was no life in his eyes.

Holding Dean in his arms, Sam doubled over. Now the pain surpassed tears.

.

APRIL

There was an odd sound of wind without a rush of air, and a bird chittered excitedly. Sam looked up from his laptop, but everything was still except for the red and yellow tulips Melissa had planted, bobbing their heads.

He looked back at the laptop, shook his head, and put it on the little round wrought-iron table next to his chair on the porch. He picked up a beer bottle and took a healthy pull.

"You're right, Sam," Castiel said. "You should – "

Sam had swallowed, leaped to his feet and grabbed the bottle like a weapon before it sank in who was talking to him.

"Six months of not hunting hasn't damaged your reflexes, I see," Cas said.

Sam just stared at him, rigid.

"I'm sorry that I startled you. I was just going to say that your thoughts were right. You should allow yourself time for reflection on the six-month anniversary of a traumatic event."

Sam swallowed and his eyes narrowed. "'Traumatic event.' Nice angel-speak for my brother being slaughtered and none of you lifting a finger to help. I see you're flying again. What deal did you make with your overlords?"

"I made no deal, Sam. The leadership of Heaven has changed considerably since – "

"Where the hell have you been?" Sam's rage finally reached his voice. "Where did you go? Melissa told me you were right next to her when the portal closed. She went to help some people who were still alive somehow after the demons possessing them smoked out. She turned around, you weren't there. She looked for you. You weren't there. We called for you. For hours. You never came back. She thought something got you at the last moment. I thought she had to be right. Because why else would you abandon her? Abandon Dean? At a time when – And every day since – "

"I was busy."

Sam's head pulled back and his jaw twitched. "Busy."

"With Dean."

The bottle dropped from Sam's hand and was somehow upright on the table in the next moment. "You've seen Dean?"

"In the instant before Dean's death, I was suddenly filled with power, all of my angelic grace and abilities restored. For a moment I couldn't understand it, then I sensed what had happened to Dean and understood what I had to do. I went to him."

"He saw you," Sam said numbly. "That was – But Heaven gave you all your power back one second too late to save him? What the hell is that? Why didn't they let you – "

Castiel opened his hands. "It was his time, Sam."

"I was in the same battle, the same – "

"But it wasn't your time. You still have work to do, very important work."

Sam gave Cas a look that should have flattened him, angel or no. "I really don't feel like taking on any Heavenly assignments."

Was there just a hint of a smile at the corner of Cas' mouth? "You may change your mind."

Sam turned his back on Cas, turned again to drop into the chair, looked up. "Is he happy?"

There was only a moment's pause. "Yes. It's a major adjustment, Sam, even for a human who is ready to move on. It's hard to let go of life as you have known it and move into existence as it is now."

He took a step toward Sam. "I believe this is why Heaven gave me back the full measure of my grace. You may believe that they feel no gratitude for what you and Dean did, for what you sacrificed, but I believe they do. They wanted to make Dean's transition as easy as possible. These past – well, months, for you – have been at times joyous and at times hard for him, but I have been with him every moment to help him since I conducted him to Heaven."

"So you're a reaper now?"

Castiel outright chuckled, although dryly. "Only in Dean's case. I cannot hope for status as exalted as a reaper for a very long time."

"Exalted? I didn't think reapers were all that – "

"They're not. But I've been demoted to the very lowest of celestial ranks, doing the very simplest jobs with the least responsibility and least glory. Dean calls it 'angelic scut-work.'"

Sam couldn't help but grin. Still, he was clearly bothered. "That's your reward? For helping slam demons back into Hell?"

"My reward is being allowed to continue existing and helping Dean. My punishment is for murdering two hundred thirteen angels and humans."

Sam lowered his gaze. After a moment he said, "You were insane. You know, here on Earth – "

"I was insane because of monumental power that I ingested. I ingested it of my own free will with the specific intent of being able to kill Raphael if necessary. The humans I murdered because I found them distasteful, the angels I murdered to keep my secret, or for refusing – " Cas' voice broke. He paused and continued in his normal even tone, " – or for refusing to worship me as God – there is no excuse for those deaths."

Sam nodded slowly. He took a drink of beer, looked back up at Castiel and said in the measured tone of someone mustering all his courage, "I'm in real trouble, then."

Cas leaned against the porch railing. "I cannot dictate or predict these things, Sam. But you spent a very long time being tortured by Lucifer. If you have to do penance for the evil that you did under the influence of demon blood, I am certain that it won't be in Hell, and that it will not prevent you from seeing Dean in Heaven."

Sam took a breath. "Then I can handle penance."

"Exactly."

"You said you've been with Dean this whole time? How are you doing angelic scut-work while you're hanging with Dean in his memories?"

Cas smiled outright. His gaze wandered over the tulips, and one of them opened gently.

"A soul as – brilliant as your brother's cannot be contained in memories. It would be a waste. They are helpful to him in his adjustment, and at those times I remain with him, out of sight if the memory doesn't include me. At other times, he helps me."

"With angelic work?" Sam looked like he didn't know whether to be dumbfounded or delighted.

"To the extent that a human soul without angelic powers can help, yes, he does. Our work is bound – "

Cas paused, tipping his head a little. "Our beings are bound together, Sam. We are soulmates."

"I know that." Sam looked like he hadn't expected to say that, but forged on, "You know that. Does he know it yet?"

"He always did. Now he's no longer afraid to acknowledge it."

Sam leaned back in his chair, looked into Cas' eyes with quiet joy. "Well. Well, all right, then."

After a moment, Castiel gestured at Sam's laptop. "You are writing something."

"Term paper. I'm working toward a degree in education, and I've been doing freelance computer work to help pay the bills. And you already knew all this."

"I told Dean. He made a remark about the school board's hair going white if they knew the kinds of things you could teach people. Which of course means that he's very pleased and proud."

Sam smiled wistfully. After a moment he asked, "Can I see him now?"

"No."

Sam's face contracted a little.

"When two souls as close as yours and Dean's are on either side of the divide, it disrupts them both to see each other. It would make it even more difficult for Dean to move on, become what he is meant to be. And it would hold you back from what you are meant to do and be."

"Yeah, this 'very important work' I'm supposedly – " Sam looked at the laptop with a sudden thought. "Is that the important work? My teaching?"

"That's important, of course. But you'll have a crucially important job even before you get your degree. In a little less than nine months, in fact."

"A little – "

Sam shot to his feet so fast that Cas had to snap his neck back to look up at him. "Melissa's pregnant?"

The Impala rounded the corner and almost immediately turned again, into the driveway. Sam stared at it with a huge grin.

"I would suggest that she will be disconcerted if you know before she does," Castiel said.

Sam glanced at him, then seemed to take in the words. "Oh. Right."

He quelled his grin to a normal welcome-home smile and raised his hand as the Impala's engine stopped. "Do you know – "

There was a sound of rushing air with no wind, and Cas was gone.

Melissa got out of the car, pulling a paper bag of groceries with her. Her dark hair lifted in a breeze and her loose fluffy sweater slid down her arm, revealing the two scars that were the bookends of her hunting career – the sharp white one along the jawline from the night her father was murdered by a demon, and the long jagged one on her arm from the day they'd shut the demons back in Hell.

Sam was petrified by a surge of emotion, a lot of emotions, standing stock-still on the porch with a stupid grin as Melissa came up the three steps. "I put the bag on the seat," she said, "and I swear I could hear the Impala saying, 'Groceries? Seriously?'"

Sam gave a laugh that sounded dumb even to him. "What did you tell her?"

"I said, Well, we're all living quieter lives now. But if she's getting restless – " Melissa's gaze angled up – "we could probably find an angry spirit to lay to rest."

"No way. I mean, you know. If we're supposed to handle a case, it'll come to us. No need to go out, you know. Looking for them."

"Are you OK? You seem a little – "

"Cas was here."

Melissa's jaw dropped and so did the grocery bag, imperiling the beer and laptop already on the table. "He's alive?"

Sam nodded, and Melissa's expression sharpened. "Where the hell has he been?"

"The very question I asked. And it turns out, there's a very good answer."

"There better be." She picked up the grocery bag again, and Sam started to take it from her.

"No, you stay here and relax. I'm just going to put away the groceries and get a soda. I'll come back out here and you tell me about Castiel."

Sam took the bag from her anyway. "You know, you've been doing a lot of the heavy lifting in this relationship the last six months. Maybe it's time I started pulling some weight."

"You've pulled your weight." She touched him gently on the chin. "You deserve time to grieve. You had a shock to the system. You deserve time to heal."

They kissed and the grocery bag crunched between them and she giggled.

"Just remember," she said, opening the creaky screen door, "for something important – for you – I truly don't mind doing some carrying."

She went inside and Sam stopped in the doorway, muffling a laugh in his throat. "Good to know," he mumbled.

He let the screen door close behind him but kept the solid door open, letting in a cool spring breeze that riffled the greening grass and dipped budding tree branches.

And a few twigs that were wedged into the Impala's right headlight were whisked away as though by a gentle hand.

.

THE END


End file.
